I'm an eternal optimist. I love great wine and expensive shoes. New York City is directly connected to my heart and is my future home. I believe in the kind of love that shakes your soul and throws you out of your routine. I love antique boxes and teapots -especially ones with great stories behind them. I try to see the beauty in every situation, every person and every change. It's my goal is inspire as many people as possible through the patterns I create with words. I encourage you...to dare to dream. A lot can happen when you believe.
Is it a bad sign that someone applying for jobs to become an editor/writer, is sick of WRITING cover letters?
Because frankly, my dears, it's exhausting! I truly, honestly, full heatedly love all of the jobs I've applied for (6 total) -but putting your soul and experience on a platter is stressful.
The writing does come easily and it probably doesn't take me any longer than 30 minutes to whip one up -but because I'm such a perfectionist, I read it ten times and research the company, if I'm not familiar with them already. Doing so makes me really get my hopes up and if I don't hear back within 20 minutes of sending, I start to panic.
Sad, I know.
It's just when you want something so badly, when something is just as much part of you as your own DNA, when something feels so right to not be perfectly aligned with fate -the waiting game is unbearable.
I've only applied to a handful of jobs and I still have 37 days until my flight lands at JFK, but still, couldn't I just have one lead or two? Maybe three? Could I just have one reply to the e-mails and cover letters I've exhausted, ridiculed, criticized and worried myself sick over?
Maybe patience isn't my virtue, but when am I supposed to follow up? In a week? Two weeks? Are these job postings really job postings or have the positions been filled and HR is just doing what's required of them to be an EOA? Does my experience match up or line up or measure up to those of other applicants? How do I make my stand out in an e-mail when I can put my best face and personality in front of them? How can I explain to them how perfect I am without repeating the same sentence in 10 different varieties?
How do I just get that one little toe in the door to all of my tomorrows? How do you get through today when all you want is to be somewhere you're not? How do you apply for jobs at places you've never been to, but claim you could do it all? Even though you know you can, how can you prove it to them...through Gmail?
Ugh.
I know it will become easier in time, but for now, can we all just pray for ONE itty-bitty-teeney-weeney response?
I've always had this unrealistic fear of being alone. Sure, just like every young woman (or maybe it's just me), I'm terrified of ending up living in my collection of shoes with a million cats and having really stringy, gross and greasy gray hair that topples over my books as I spend hours reading erotic romance novels.
Ahh. The thought alone makes me cringe and want to go to the gym or the salon.
While that fear is a little too unrealistic and far-fetched, being alone can come in many senses. Not having a passionate love life is one thing, but being without friends or family is a completely different subject.
I do live with my parents currently, so that void isn't missing -but the friend part is seriously lacking.
I knew graduating early would have its perks and disadvantages, but sitting at home night after night with only my overly-energetic pup, Suzie Lou to keep my warm and loved, really sucks.
I feel so out of the loop of what's going on in my friends' lives, and we are all making a great effort to stay in touch, but it's not the same as sharing a Nacho Basket at McAllister's or getting tipsy off $1 drafts at Flipside on Thursday.
God, I never thought I'd miss Boone.
I'm ready for this big move so I can make new friends and have new experiences full of adventure and intrigue -but part of me is terrified. What if I don't make friends? What if the bottom of my dreams and bank account falls out from underneath me? What if I have to move back home? What if I feel this lonely, alone and afraid forever?
Part of this lonely river I'm currently swimming in is teaching me a lesson. It's showing me how to stand on my own two feet without having physical or constant support from other people. Moving to NYC will only intensify this lesson, and I know more than anything, I need to know I can survive independently before I can ever depend on completely putting my trust in someone else. It's teaching me to save money, to make peace with alone and quiet time, and most importantly, to be secure in who I am, where I'm going and in the path it takes to connect the two.
This lesson is a difficult one, but one day, I'll look back and be thankful for the opportunity and growth.
But for now, I can listen to Celine Dion's "All By Myself" and miss my lovely friends in Boone while the snow falls silently and peacefully outside. Great, now I'm trapped. Ehh...
It hit me what I was asked to unpack several boxes of random books, and clean the men's & women's bathroom at the bookstore I work at in Asheville, N.C., that I really wasn't where I wanted to be.
I had dressed up for the day -which was nothing out of the norm for me. The other booksellers, I'm sure, looked at me like I was crazy when I came in with high-waisted skirts, and sometimes, heels to work an eight-hour shift.
As my manager looked at me and said, “I hope you brought different shoes,” –part of me winced in pain.
Here I was, a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed 21-year-old who just graduated from Appalachian State University in Boone, North Carolina. It’s not a prestigious school by any means, and is only known for it’s 3-time national championship in some division of football. I didn’t go for the name, I went for the price and because it was the only school I got into.
Standing in my Micahel Kohrs skirt I found in a blowout sale at the beach, high heels circa Target two years prior and a sweater that hugged me in all the right places, I knew I still had over a month before I would be where I belonged:
New York City.
Anyone who knows me, follows me on Twitter or Facebook or has had even one conversation with me knows my heart, soul and wallet (though, empty) belongs in Manhattan. There is no need for me to go into detail about why I love the city or why it's the place I feel like I belong and desire the most -especially when my journey will be chronicled through this silly blog I forgot I had.
While the economy is not exactly a picture-perfect illustration of what every unemployed person would like it to be -I still have hope. I know finding my dream job isn't going to be a walk in Central Park, but eventually (preferably before the end of April), I will have a job I actually enjoy and will pay my bills in New York.
Until then, I'm stuck in my hometown sleeping in my childhood bedroom complete with Little Mermaid sheets and two adoring parents who want to know about my every move, God bless them. They have lovingly opened me into their home until I'm ready to move, and a fantastic friend has offered her couch to me for a few weeks until I get settled in the city, when the time comes.
Being at home isn't torture, but it isn't exactly an amazing situation. Once you've been away at school for three plus years -coming home and having to answer phone calls about your location and be asked to clean up after yourself makes you realize why it's so important to move to your pad once you get that very expensive piece of paper that says you're qualified to be paid more money than someone without it.
The bookstore gig has been my biggest break so far. While it can be extremely boring at times, all of the people are interesting and nice, and the customers never fail to make me raise an eyebrow. A guy seriously came in asking for a book on pumpkin chucking once, and I saw a flashing neon sign above his head that read, "Lindsay Tigar, get the hell out of the South, right now!"
All in due time, I replied to myself and smiled to the customer and told him I wasn't familiar with a book with that specific topic. I would like to know if he ever found one, however.
I spent most of my time texting my friends in a quite obsessive amount, writing endleslly, worrying about the next stage in my life, cleaning my mess of a room, running at a gym I actually like, and yesterday, I officially started applying for jobs.
I've applied for two:
An online women's magazine/organization as a Web Editor
An online New York-based publication as a Web Assistant.
I'll keep you posted on both.
Also, most of my evenings and early mornings are dedicated to my only saving grace right now, ChickSpeak. This site has become what makes me get up in the morning and what keeps me going. I have a handful of new writers and oldies that are incredible, and I can only see the site becoming more successful from here. The founder has also become a dear friend of mine, and I'm so thankful for her guidance through all of my career freak-outs.
As I get through the next 40 days without (hopefully) losing my mind, I'll chronicle my thoughts on the economy, what it's like to be a job applicant, and make a drastic transition in your life -completely independent. I'm fully funding my move and new life in New York, hence why I'm working at a bookstore 40 hours a week and refusing to spend one dime.
And once I'm in New York, I'll keep you all posted on the continued job search and of course, apartment shopping. Yikes, and yay! :)
All in due time.
I dare to dream, and I'll chase the place I'm meant to be until it all falls into place.